


Regan and Teegan

by Amariahellcat



Series: Kissing Turians [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biotics (Mass Effect), Blindness, Canon-Typical Violence, Cerberus-OC, Disability, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family Issues, Interspecies Awkwardness, Mass Effect 3 timeline, Omega DLC, Rating May Change, Rough First Impressions, Tags May Change, Talons, title may change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2020-09-01 02:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20250802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amariahellcat/pseuds/Amariahellcat
Summary: Regan Kelly joined Cerberus to escape Colony life - Teegan came to Omega to avoid being conscripted into a Cabal.Neither expected to be thrown together in the midst of a shit-show, forced to work together to keep from being killed by the Adjutants left roaming the station.Neither expected to get attached, either.Fits into my Kissing Turians AU Universe.





	1. Regan Kelly

She’s born blind.

Half blind, actually - though her right eye’s such a pale grey the doctors had initially assumed it was full blindness.

She’d reacted to things on that side, they realized - was otherwise a happy, healthy baby, if quieter than most, and her parents took to raising her as such.

Kids are cruel, though, no matter their location - New Canton was no stranger to bullying, and at school her difference was treated almost as a disease - something to make fun of from afar.

Regan ignored them, at first. She had more important things to think about then childish bullies - the small library of their colonies school just _begged_ for her attention, and she happily spent her free time tucked in a corner, devouring sagas meant for youths much older then her.

_A genius._ Her teachers said, showering praise during conferences with her parents, _Reading at far-above her age level. But a loner. Unsociable._

_She’ll grow out of it._ Her parents said, but she never did - preferring her books to people, eventually beginning to tinker and create drones with spare parts scavenged from around the colony, _knowing_ she was meant for more then the colony life her parents enjoyed.

Discovering her biotics was a fluke - and the only reason the bully who’d triggered them was still alive was her damn terrible depth perception.

Not that the teachers believed she’d attacked them on purpose. _Regan? Leave the poor girl alone, Joseph - as if she could crack a window with her mind, please._

She trained by herself, tucked away in her bedroom while her parents were at work or asleep, learning to control these new abilities, furthering her skills with tech.

Regan applied to the Alliance as soon as she turned 18, wanting to be off the colony and making a name for herself, not stuck being a poor colonist for the rest of her life like her parents.

Her application was denied, and she scowled and let her biotics flare in anger at their reasoning, teeth bared at the computer screen.

_Applicant Denied due to unfavorable disability - partial blindness on the field would be a hindrance. _

_Are you kidding me?! I didn’t apply to be on the field! Did they even **read** the rest of my application??_

She’d attached every commendation and recommendation she’d ever gotten from her teachers - about her prowess with tech, her quick thinking skills and ease at picking up new programs and languages - all for naught, it seemed.

_God fucking dammit! I just want off of this rock!_

Maybe a month later, after yet _another_ declined application to the Alliance, she hears about Cerberus.

They don’t have the _best_ reputation, but they have open positions in tech, and offer good money - she wouldn’t be on the front lines, and it’d get her off of the Colony. She sends in an application without much thought, half-expecting the same response as the Alliance.

Imagine her surprise at the almost immediate email declaring she’s been accepted, and to be ready for pick-up at a date TBA.

Regan is nineteen when she leaves New Canton to join Cerberus, welcomed aboard her shuttle by a smiling woman and several soldiers in white, black, and yellow, and she doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...hi guys. It hurt to type this but the sudden burst of inspiration was too good to let pass me by. So. You have an intro to Regan! Hopefully you enjoyed it ♥ I'll do my best to have Teegan's up soon as well! Kudos and comments still make my day! And if anyone has a better suggestion for the title omg let me know pls


	2. Teegan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His biotics show up at age five.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is late oops but tada! Teegan intro! Short but sweet! Enjoy! ♥ Re-uploading cause something screwed up :U

His biotics show up at age five.

He’d had a normal Turian childhood, up till then - born to strict, By-The-Book parents, raised in the standard Turian way in a standard Turian household.

His gaze was constantly on the sky, earning annoyed trills from his parents and teachers. He was smart, and learned quickly, but the Hierarchy and its history didn’t interest him.

Then _poof_, he’d made something float - a datapad he’d been drawing on that his father had taken, floating back within his reach - and suddenly he wasn’t just an oddball.

He was a Biotic - and even at five, he knew how most of Turian society viewed Biotics. Useful, but not to be trusted.

His parents couldn’t keep this careful secret forever - they managed to keep it to themselves for a couple of years, longer than he’d have expected, honestly, until he accidentally _nudged_ a snack closer in the presence of guests -

And then the Cabals came calling.

‘_A Biotic needs proper training.’_ they argued, correctly, though his parents fought it - why, he’d never be sure, since they’d never been fond of him to begin with.

He wanted to explore - to make his own way - and the older he grew, the more he realized he would not be allowed to. Neither by his parents or the stifling ways of the Hierarchy and their Cabals.

Teegan was twelve when an Uncle helped him slip away - more sympathetic to his wants then his parents, getting him aboard a ship that didn’t ask questions and giving him a few credits to make his way.

How he ended up on Omega, he’s still not sure - at the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Aria T’Loak didn’t seem to care who stayed on her station, so long as they didn’t cause trouble.

He got in with the Talons - one of the smaller, less _violent_ gangs of Omega - and started working his way up, perfecting his skill with a rifle, realizing his talent for biotics with help from other members, and taking on the Talons Marks.

Maybe here, he could make something of himself - or at least die for his own cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments make my day! ♥


	3. Cerberus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Regan arrives at Cerberus and makes an immediate impression - she’s not there to mess around, and she’s not some foolish teenager.
> 
> Eventually, that impression leads her to a new opportunity - clearly, the Best should be working for Lazarus.

Regan arrives at her assigned Cerberus cell and goes through what must be the standard welcome procedure for everyone: a quick tour of the facilities, access codes for all relevant areas of the cell, and a briefing of her function within the cell.

“We’re the cell that develops and tests the Security Systems and Defences for all of Cerberus - not that you’ll be working with any _real_ material, at first.” her guide tells her, nodding as though that makes sense, “We have to see what you’re capable of, where your strengths lie - _then_ we determine which sections you’ll work on.”

_Or if you go home._ She catches the underlying words, keeping silent. She’s never been outsmarted before - she’ll pass whatever tests these people throw at her.

“You’re rooming with two other young women, new to the program as well - your trunk of belongings has been delivered there, along with your Uniforms and other necessities. You’ll be given a starting salary - and if you do well, that will go up, and you’ll be granted leave _away_ from the cell, after enough progress.”

“Understood.”

“Very good.” the tour guide stops at a door and types something on his omni, her own pinging in response, “This is your room, and that’s your access card. You have today to get settled and meet your roommates. Welcome to Cerberus, Ms. Kelly.”

Her roommates are fellow Colony kids - maybe a year younger than her, definitely more _outgoing_ than her.

Haley’s a bubbly brunette, joined up with Cerberus to help pay for her mother's medical treatments.

Erika’s raven haired and covered in tattoos, a rebel without a cause - she joined for the _money_, she says, unconcerned. 

They’re both from Benning, and despite Regan being weary of people in general, they don’t seem to mind her disability or her quirks.

Regan takes a night to sort through her things, familiarizing herself with the room and it’s obstacles, pulling out her new uniforms and checking the size - then crawling into bed and making a note on her omni.

_Too many corners, blindspots - fuck - start work on visor._

* * *

Haley and Erika are part of the same group as she is, and they lead the way the next morning, walking ahead of her and motioning to other rooms and halls as they go.

Regan’s over being annoyed by people forgetting her blindness - she just focuses on following them and not bumping into anyone, doing surprisingly well if only because the hall is _narrow_ \- tugging at the sleeve of her uniform as they arrive at what seems to be their specified cell.

It’s a mid-size room filled with cubicles, the walls transparent and showing the people sitting at the desks - the head of the cell standing at the front and motioning them impatiently in. There’s people standing behind several of the desks as well, looking bored with the whole thing - _supervisors?_

“Alright then, now that we’re all here - take your seats, please. Kelly, back left corner - as you were the last addition to our team, you don’t get a choice of desk. Apologies.”

_I’d rather be in the back anyways._

Haley takes a second to lead her back, helping her form a mental map, and Regan nods to her before sitting down and looking up - realizing, suddenly, that this side of the walls are _opaque_.

_Like a two-way mirror? So he can watch us, but we can’t see anyone else… clever, Cerberus._

“Alright, everyone. I’ve loaded a sample security system onto your consoles - your task today is to get it set up and running properly. I expect this will take you all a few hours, but that is why we are _doing_ these tests _before_ I allow you access to the true grids. If you have any questions, raise your hand. Either I or your assigned Mentor will help you. Don’t worry - they’ll only be here for the first few weeks, to ensure… well. Don’t worry.”

_Am I back in school? I thought this was a **job**_-

Regan blinks as her console comes to life, squinting and leaning in close to read the text better. It’s a simple system, with common coding and easy tech - and the ‘clients specifications’ are hardly more than getting security cams to work.

_Hours? Pft. This is child's play. There’s even an error in here - maybe **that** would take a novice forever, but not me. Let’s just fix this bit first then-_

Half an hour later, Regan sits back and raises her hand, waiting for the Head to notice her from where he’s doing fuck all at his own terminal - even her Mentor doesn’t seem to take notice, and she wonders what the point of them is.

Finally, after she’s waved it around a few times, he looks up, almost _smirking_ at her, “Ah, Ms. Kelly, you have a question?”

“No, I’m finished. What’s next?”

The smirk vanishes into a look of surprise, and Regan can feel eyes on her as he _slowly_ stands from his desk and crosses the room, trying to compose himself as he hovers over her.

“Now, there’s no way you could have finished it already-”

He trails off as Regan hits a button and the simulation runs perfectly, looping in the way it’s meant to.

“You had an error in your code.” she says, bored. “I fixed it, but I would have been quicker if it hadn’t been there.”

“Where… are you from again, Kelly?”

“New Canton.”

“And _who_ taught you this?”

“No one. I taught myself.”

There’s a murmur at the nearby desks, and the Head clears his throat, giving her an appraising look.

“It would seem that you do not _need_ the intro sessions, Ms. Kelly.” his voice is level, but there’s something in it that tells her he’s not pleased about the _newbie_ solving his riddle so easily, “I’m going to assign you a sector to maintain, starting tomorrow - for now, you may use the console to do as you wish, _within_ Cerberus’ restrictions. The Mentor’s will keep a watch on your activities, of course.”

_Which are…?_ She thinks but doesn’t say, not about to push her luck on her first day.

Instead, she spends the rest of the session looking up components for the Visor she wants to build, pricing things out and _planning_ for that first paycheck, ignoring everyone around her.

* * *

That first session earns her a reputation amongst the rest of the cell, and not a week later she’s approached by one of the men in their group near the end of their On-Duty Hours.

Regan’s attention is on her terminal, monitoring the sector she’s been given control over - so far nothing crazy’s happened, though she _has_ had to restart one of the doors a couple of times, _they need to replace the power grid in that building, it’s a piece of shit_ \- and she doesn’t immediately notice when he approaches on her blind side, cursing in surprise when he clears his throat.

“Whoah, sorry.” he apologizes, expression _clearly_ not sorry, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Then don’t fucking sneak up on my blind side.” she bites, forced to _keep him_ in her non-existent left peripheral so she can watch her terminal, “Do you need something?”

“Uh, yeah, just wanted to introduce myself. You’re kind of our _star worker_, y’know?” he makes a movement that she doesn’t catch, “I’m Thomas.”

“Regan.” she mutters in response, still watching her screen. “Look, I kind of _can’t_ watch two things at once - so no offense, but if you don’t need anything, I’m busy.”

“You can’t…?”

_Oh my God do I have to fucking spell it out for you._

Regan checks her terminal one last time before logging off, waiting till the next cell has confirmed control before turning her full attention on him - both her good eye and her blind one, the difference in colour _just_ obvious enough, now, to catch his attention.

To his credit, Thomas doesn’t go running - just blinks and stares for a moment, before what she supposes is meant to be a sheepish, charming grin spreads across his face. “Oh, _shit_, I didn’t know - I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to distract you.”

“Whatever.” Regan’s done - both with her shift and this conversation - standing from her terminal and giving him a curt nod, turning on her heel, “I’m done for the day. Bye.”

“Hold on a sec-!”

She’s out the door and down the hall before he can say another word, and she doesn’t care that she bumps shoulders with a few people in her hurry-

-the man is too much like a certain bully from her childhood, and she needs some _peace_.

* * *

“Regan! I saw _Thomas_ talking to you!”

Regan only grunts at her roommate, focusing on the screen of her omni - she _almost_ has all the parts she needs for her visor, she’s just missing -

“Wait, seriously? Thomas?” Erika whistles, perking from where she’d been slumped on her bed, “Fuck, I’d nail him in a _heart_ beat.”

“He’s all yours.” Regan grumbles, cursing as yet another site flashes an _out of stock_ page at her. _Fucking piece of shit-_

“But he’s _hot_! And charming!” Haley swoons a little, fanning herself, “And _Earthborn_.”

“Sure.”

“She’s not interested, Haley - guess that means he’s fair game!”

“Ohhh, even better!”

“UGH!” another _out of stock_ flashes up and Regan can’t help her biotics pulsing in frustration, rattling the bottle she has on her nightstand and making the bed rock. “_Why_ are these all sold out-?!”

“Holy shit, you’re biotic?”

Regan pauses to look up, realizing both of her roommates are staring at her.

“Uhhh… yes.”

“Cool.” Erika gives her a nod, “What’re you looking for, anyways?”

“Just a stupid part.”

“Didn’t Cerberus order you a visor, Regan?” Haley’s eyes trail to the box on her nightstand - the new headset still sitting within the packaging, opened but unworn. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Too _bulky_.” Regan scrunches her nose, willing the text on her screen to change to _available_. “I’m trying to go _frameless_ \- less of a hindrance on the range of vision, and if there’s no actual screen no chance of it getting _scratched_-”

“Okay, you’re picky, we get it… what kinda part? Maybe I can help.”

Regan huffs disbelievingly but sends the details to her roomie, watching her open up the link and _smirk_.

“Bout that part… I may _have one_. Riiight here in my trunk.”

“You _what_?!” she’s never, ever wanted to beg for anything before, but in this moment she’s ready to throw herself to her knees, “How much do you want for it?!”

“Hold up, _relax_, firecracker!” Erika’s laughing, flipping her trunk open to dig through it, “I had an old visor - well, _have_ an old visor, the part’s still _in_ it - but I don’t use it anymore. And it’s all yours, _if_.”

“If?”

“You show me some of your tricks with Tech. You’ve been here a _week_ and you’re monitoring your own system - you gotta know _something_ I don’t. _And_.” Erika’s lips twitch, “Spill on why you’re not interested in Thomas.”

“And why you blew _up_ at him.” Haley pipes up.

“Deal.” Regan agrees immediately, gasping and nearly dropping the visor when Erika tosses it at her, clutching it tightly to her chest.

“Alright, _spill_, blondie.”

“He caught me off guard.” Regan mutters, resisting the urge to just dive under her covers, “Came up on my blind side.”

“Okay…?”

“You wouldn’t get it.” she mumbles irritably, “Until you’ve had someone take advantage of _your_ weakness, you don’t have a clue.”

“Ahhh… bullies?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Got it. He’s harmless, though.”

“Sure. Doesn’t mean I’m not jumpy. And allowed to be annoyed.”

“Well, it _does_ mean he’s free for me to flirt with…” Haley muses, earning a snicker from Erika and rolled eyes from Regan.

“Alright, I’m satisfied. For now. Don’t forget that promise to help with the tech!”

“I won’t!

“Does this mean she’s going to be tinkering all night again…” Haley whines, but Regan doesn’t hear her - she’s already scrambled back onto her bed and pulled up her schematics, blankets yanked over her head.

_I can start this! And then I won’t be **as** taken off guard anymore. Genius, Regan, as usual._

* * *

Thomas only approaches her once more - before her visor’s complete - and unfortunately, it’s from her blind side again.

She might have been okay, but he _touches_ her - sets his hand on her shoulder - and it’s startling and _similar_ enough to memories of her bullies that her biotics react immediately, sending him flying backwards into the wall.

He’s not injured, thankfully - just rattled - but the message is clear, and most of the cell stays _far away_.

_Don’t fuck with Regan Kelly._

Her roomies don’t comment on it, though Erika slips her some extra chocolate at dinner.

She _is_ put into mandatory Combat Training after that, unfortunately - it would’ve happened eventually, she’s told, though this has bumped her up on the list and added _biotics_ lessons to the roster. Her request for it to start _after_ she’s gotten her visor working is granted, at least, temporarily calming her panic.

The parts come in, and she works a solid three night’s through - waking her roommates with a cheer of success once everything is in place and together.

It’s totally digital - an orange projection that runs from one ear to the other, powered by an earpiece and run off connecting tech in her omnitool. And it works _exactly_ how she wanted it to - giving her a false peripheral vision on her blind side, showing readouts and information of the world around her.

Letting her _see_, so to speak, properly. As properly as she’ll ever be able to, at least.

The combat training happens, and she’ll admit it’s good to have - nothing highly physical, all focused on her biotics and her tech, giving her basics at building quick turrets and using tech shields and overloads.

She’s issued a pistol - one she has _terrible_ aim with - and she tucks it into her trunk and leaves it there, happy with her biotics and her tech.

_I need a Drone, now… wonder how much parts are?_

* * *

“So, what’s the plan for this Leave, girls?”

“Regan need’s more parts, I’m sure… and a _hair cut_…”

“Not my fault the onsite Barber sucks.” Regan retorts, squinting so her visor will zoom in on the circuit she’s messing with, lip caught between her teeth, “Terra’s almost done, I just need _one_ little part-”

“Terra? You’ve already named it?”

“_Her_. I’ve named _her_.”

“I’m not surprised, she likes her tech more than she likes people, remember?” Erika squints, that ever knowing smirk on her lips, “You know, you could’ve just _requisitioned_ a Drone - God knows the higher ups love throwing tech at you when you ask.”

“Mine’s better.” Regan growls, jabbing at another bit of the circuit, “Besides, this way I know there aren’t any _spy cams_ in her-”

“Yeah, well, we should do _something_ besides _part shopping_-”

There’s a sudden knock at the door, and all three women stop, sharing a look.

Regan’s been with Cerberus for a year, and they’ve only had someone come knocking twice. Once, because Erika got drunk and was blasting old 90’s punk rock. The second, to inform them that there wouldn’t be any work for the day because of certain _retraining exercises_ going on.

A knock could be nothing… or it could be concerning.

“Not it.” Regan mumbles, going back to her tinkering.

Haley gives a dramatic sigh and heads to the door, opening it and nodding politely to the Agents beyond. “Good evening, sirs. How can we help you?”

“We’re looking for Regan Kelly. Is she here?”

Erika shoots her a look, mouthing _what’d you do?_

Regan shrugs, abandoning her half-done Drone as she stands, visor doing a quick scan of the people in the doorway as she moves into range.

“I’m Regan. What do you want?”

Haley flinches at her wording, but the man in the door doesn’t seem to notice her brusque tone - or he doesn’t care, at least.

“You’re being temporarily reassigned, Kelly. We’ve been told you’re one of the best Security Whizzes Cerberus has.”

“I am.”

“Not modest, are you? Anyways, we need you for a high-class project, something that _needs_ the best security. My Boss was told you’re the one for the Job, and I’m here to get you.”

“And do I get to know where I’m being taken to?”

“It’s the station for Project Lazarus. Unfortunately, that’s all I’m allowed to say; Miranda might clear you for more information later, but for now, just know you’ll be getting a _higher_ salary both while you’re there _and_ afterwards, along with a bonus for your efforts.”

Regan’s eyes narrow, suspicious. _Seems too good to be true._

“Am I allowed to ask who _you_ are?”

“Ah, apologies. Jacob Taylor. I’ll be staying on the station to help with security for the project - but we need you to help get the tech set up first.”

“Alright. I’m game. More money for sure, right?” Regan studies him another moment, then lifts her chin - her whole 5’ self trying to seem imposing, “Let me pack my things. Should I meet you somewhere?”

“I’ll leave these two to carry your trunk for you. We leave in an hour.” Jacob looks like he wants to salute, nodding after a moment's pause, “Welcome aboard, Kelly.”

“Sure. Thanks.”

The group disappears, and Regan steps back inside to start packing, starting with the scattered bits of her Drone.

“So… you’re coming back, right?”

Haley’s voice makes her pause, sighing a little as she turns around - giving the _tiniest_ of grins.

“Yup.” Regan shrugs, looking nonchalant, “I doubt anyone else would put up with my tinkering.”

That gets a laugh from both women, and Regan resumes packing, triple checking everything before allowing the posted Agents to carry it away.

“We’ll be proper System Watchers, when you get back.” Erika calls out before she can slip out the door, winking, “Better be ready, Regan.”

That earns another grin, this one slightly wider, before the blonde’s slipping away.

_Project Lazarus, huh?_ She thinks as she climbs into the specified shuttle, nodding to Jacob, _Maybe this will actually be a challenge._

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit more backstory on Regan - we have a bit to go before we hit current-events, sorry guys!
> 
> Added in one of my main refs of Regan, my patreon sketch from Alex Coggon from back when I first developed this girl! Alex ran with sims screens and designed Regan pretty much perfectly according to what I had pictured in mind. I have shots of Teegan to, but you don't get those yet ;)
> 
> There's an easter egg in this chapter for anyone who also reads my GW2 work, see if you spot it lmao.
> 
> Kudos and comments make my day! ♥


	4. Markings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teegan gets his Talons markings, and finally becomes a full fledged Merc - that deserves a little celebration, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm hi I haven’t touched this fic since... Sept? Ooops cough. But the Mass Effect bug bit again so finally get a Teegan intro woops. With wonderful character art by @squigglysquidd at the bottom! Hi. I’m sorry. Enjoy!

“Ahhh, the newly initiated _survived_ his ordeal! How’s the tats, kid?”

Teegan turns from staring out at the expanse of Omega to give the Krogan a flat look, keeping his face as neutral as possible.

Takmor grins - a wide, toothy expression that just _screams_ trouble - planting his hands on his hips as he stares down at him. “Oh c’mon, Teegan, ya gotta give me _something_ \- how rough was Almia on yah? Fuck, she does a good job, but I’ve seen people _faint_.”

Teegan _almost_ frowns at that - flinching back into a neutral position when the etching _stings_, briefly, reminding him _why_ he’s been trying not to react.

Tak only grins _wider_. “Ahah, thought as much. Stings like a bitch, don’t it? Well, it looks _damn good_ on yah, kid, so congrats - you’re an _official_ Talons Merc, now.”

He can’t help the smirk at that - and he’s _sure_ that’s what Takmor was aiming for, too - groaning as the markings throb in protest at the movement. “Dammit, _Tak_, it still _stings_.”

“I bet it does! I did _warn_ you!” the Krogan’s laughing loudly, plunking down on the bench beside him, “But I’d say it’s worth it, wouldn’t you?”

“Definitely.” the stinging’s starting to fade, letting him laugh a little, too, clasping his hands and staring down at the new armor he’d been given - a proper set, donned before he’d settled in to have the Talon Marking’s etched into his plates.

Not having old Clan Markings to bleach out had made the process easier, but it had still stung.

_This is what you’ve been working towards since you got here._ He flares his mandibles, testing how everything feels as it settles, _No more courier missions, or being the errand boy._

Teegan hadn’t known what to do, when he’d first arrived on Omega - he’d just known life with a Cabal was not for him.

Takmor had found him fairly quickly - wandering aimlessly around the lower markets, smart enough to avoid the shadiest of corners but young enough to not know _where_ to head - and taken him under his wing, an unofficial member of the Talons Mercenaries.

The Krogan was loud, at times brash, but always a good friend, and mentor - he’d helped him figure out his biotics, trained him with a rifle.

And it was thanks to him, really, that he’d made it this far.

Even if they did drive each other nuts on occasion.

Like right now - as Teegan’s leg started to bounce, a habit he’d picked up sometime between arriving on Omega and beginning to be sent on errands, whenever he had too much energy.

It had been worse, lately. He’d thought getting the markings might belay it a bit, but now it’s a sort of… different energy.

One that catches Takmor’s attention, the Krogan inhaling deeply and then gagging. “Ugh, that’s it, get outta here. You _reek_.”

“_Excuse me?!”_

“You stink of hormones. Figured it was coming, especially once you got your Markings.” Tak makes a shooing motion at him, nose held in the air, “Go on, get. Afterlife should have something for you. Just don’t go for other Merc squads, that’s a whole lotta trouble just waiting to happen.”

“Uhhh…”

“Trust the old man. You’ll feel a _lot better_ once you’ve gotten laid.”

Teegan _should be_ used to Tak by now. He really should be.

That doesn’t mean his words don’t occasionally make him _stare_.

“If you don’t leave in ten seconds, I’m gonna carry you there.”

“Spirits, I’m going!” he laughs, because this is ridiculous, turning on his heel and marching off, rolling his eyes at his friends howling in the background.

_I mean, **maybe** it’s a good idea… what can it hurt, really?_

Getting his Talon Markings - becoming a _full fledged member_ \- is a big deal. He’s allowed to _celebrate_ a little, right? And if celebrating means he wants sex, who cares?

_I wonder if Vey’ra would be interested…_

Thinking of the Asari waitress makes him perk, walking faster as the club comes into sight.

Vey’ra had started working at Afterlife around the same time he’d started doing higher-priority runs, and he always stopped to chat when making deliveries near the club. He’d never been a customer before, so he hoped the friendliness was because she actually liked talking to him, but he couldn’t assume.

_No hard feelings if she’s not interested._

Teegan waits his turn in line and then heads for the bar on the main level, mandibles spread wide when he spots the Asari behind the counter.

Vey’ra is dressed like the dancers with a serving apron on over top, which means she’ll be swapping spots later on - and her eyes go wide when she spots him, mouth opening a little.

“Teegan! You made full Company!” she’s all enthusiasm, leaning slightly over the counter as he walks up, “Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Vey.” he chuckles, leaning an elbow on the counter and tilting his head, trying to seem more confident then he feels, “Just got the Markings done - they still sting a little, honestly.”

“Aw, poor boy.” the Asari clucks her tongue worryingly, eyes sweeping appreciatively over his face, “They _look_ great, though. You here to celebrate?”

“I am.” Teegan lowers his voice, lets his subvocals rumble, “Though I was hoping for a more, ah… _private_ celebration. If you’re interested.”

Vey’ra eyes him for a moment before her gaze goes liquid, lips pulling in a seductive smile. “Oh, I am _definitely_ interested. Have a seat - I’m off bar duty in ten minutes.”

“Sounds good to me.” Teegan purrs, shoving back the flush that wants to rise in his throat - happily accepting whatever drink it is she mixes him and downing it in a single swig, making familiar, comfortable talk as she finishes up her shift.

Ten minutes pass and her relief shows up, and Vey’ra pulls off her apron and slinks around the counter in her skimpy little dancers attire, all smiles and sensuality.

“Shall we, then?”

Teegan slips off the chair, giving her a smirk he _hopes_ is as confident as she looks. “Lead the way.”

Vey’ra takes his hand, leading him off through the crowded club towards one of the back rooms - and Teegan makes a mental note to thank Tak for the suggestion.


	5. Lazarus

“_Mechs_.” Regan says, not bothering to hide the disgust dripping from her tone.

Miranda pauses in her tour, eyebrows raised. “Yes, mechs. Is there a problem?”

_If you have to ask, then you wouldn’t understand._

Regan keeps that thought to herself, because Miranda is not only her current superior, she is in fact very smart, and insulting her on her first true day of work is _not_ a good idea.

“Mechs are too easy to hack into.” she says instead, dialing a quick code on her omni to pull up Terra - the little drone giving a quiet _beep_ of recognition as it pops into existence, circling around her feet before settling obediently at her side. “Drones would be much more efficient, and easier to keep encrypted.”

“Are you worried that we are the target of hackers, Ms. Kelly?”

Regan just gives her a flat look, “I’m a tech specialist and expert hacker - I’m _always_ concerned someone else is trying to hack into my work, ma’am.”

Miranda considers her for a moment, lips twitching. “Understood. I’m sure that paranoia will be quite valuable - you and I will get along fine, I believe.” The brunette turns, motioning for her to continue following her, “Unfortunately, we’ve been instructed to use Mechs for security purposes - very few people are stationed here, and those that are have neither the training nor the time to learn how to operate Drones.”

Regan wants to argue that - _ I could easily program a simple VI to run them, the same as the mechs_ \- but keeps her mouth shut, a hand motion sending Terra back to it’s sleep status in her omni.

She’d arrived with Jacob the day before, led to a small room with a bed and told to _get some sleep, we’ll get to work tomorrow._

Miranda Lawson had come knocking first thing in the morning - the head of the Lazarus Project and her boss, for the time being, a smart woman that she can just _feel_ the biotics pulsing off of.

Regan still doesn’t know what exactly the Lazarus Project _is_ \- she’s seen maybe ten people as they’ve toured the halls, which includes Miranda and Jacob themselves - but she’s here to work on the security, nothing else.

_Running a bug would probably get me in a lot of shit…_

Miranda is thorough in her tour, giving Regan time to form a memory map and to save routes into her visor, and the effort is appreciated - clearly, for all that the woman herself comes off as being _perfect_, she cares enough about her subordinates to give them the tools to function properly.

“Well then, I’ll let you get to work. It’s not a big station, but I imagine you’ll have plenty to keep you busy.” Miranda turns to walk away, shooting her a nod, “Unless there’s any questions?”

“One. But I might get in shit for asking it.”

Miranda pauses, eyebrows raised.

_Well, what the hell._

“What, exactly, are we doing here?”

The brunette eyes her for a moment, a calculating look Regan recognizes well - she’s seen it from numerous adults, teachers, supervisors - whenever she’d asked a question they hadn’t expected.

It usually comes with a rebuttal, or a cold but polite explanation, as though they’re annoyed that she’s smart enough to understand.

So Miranda’s near _grin_ surprises her.

“We’re saving the world.” is all she says, and then turns on her heel, “A word of caution going forwards, Ms Kelly: asking questions here can be hazardous.”

_Noted_.

* * *

Something people don’t seem to realize about people with impairments - their other senses are usually much sharper, given the need to rely on them more.

So when a man enters the area she’s working in and stands _just _out of her visor’s range on her blind side, she knows it’s done to avoid detection.

Attempt to, anyways. She hears him - footfalls quiet, but telling of a man who’s not used to sleuthing - and _smells_ him, the faintest whiff of omnigel that most of the doctors on the station seem to carry with them.

He could be lost, but Regan’s never been that naive. So he gets the same 60 second countdown that everyone else gets before turning to squint at him, scowling.

“Can I help you? Or were you just planning to stand there and watch me?”

The man jumps - _predictable_ \- and coughs into his fist, expression settling into what she’s sure is meant to be neutral. She can see the lingering discomfort at being caught, hidden in the barest twitch of his mouth, the way his eyes dart between herself and the mech she’d been programming.

_He’s up to something._

“Pardon the interruption; I’m Dr. Wilson.” he introduces, as though she’s supposed to know the name, “Miranda told me we had a tech specialist on the station, looking after security. I was curious.”

Regan’s eyes narrow. “Okay. Now you’ve seen it. I need to get back to work.”

She hopes he’ll take the hint. When he continues to stand there, she tries not to growl.

“Unless you have authorization to access the security specs I’m installing on these mechs - which you _don’t_, by the way, because I know everyone that does, and I _don’t know you_ \- I need you to leave the area.” she pauses, lips pursed, “_Please_.”

There’s a twitch in his right eye, and his jaw jumps, just a smidge. Then he about faces and marches off, Regan tracking him with her visor until he disappears about a corner.

She has a weird feeling in her gut, after that. Something is fishy.

_Better keep an eye out at all times. I don’t like this._

* * *

Regan keeps Terra deployed every time she’s working on the systems after that first incident, the Drone chases Dr. Wilson off enough times that she feels confident in her suspicion.

Miranda is too busy to talk to, though. Something’s being delivered to the station - something _important_, and _top secret_, is all Jacob will tell her - so Regan takes initiative.

The Mechs get an _extra_ code installed, one that’ll be undetectable by anyone except another expert hacker, and she stores the command line in her omni.

The day that she finishes her assignment with Lazarus is the day that the _something_ is delivered, and she catches Jacob shaking his head and muttering _Just meat and tubes_ as she’s escorted to her shuttle.

Miranda is there to see her off, wearing a genuine smile and typing something on her omni as Regan steps up. “You’ve done a marvelous job, Ms. Kelly. We were right to bring you onboard. Here, a bonus from the Illusive Man - your pay rate will remain as it has been here, as we promised prior to your arrival, as well. I do hope to see you in more projects, in the future.”

“Thank you. One thing, Miranda.” Regan pulls up the saved code on her omni and fires it off to the brunette, watching her.

Miranda looks confused for a moment before her expression shutters. “Regan. What is this?”

“A kill-code for the mechs. Installed as a precaution - only you and I have the code, and I’ll delete my copy, if you want.” Regan meets the older woman’s eyes squarely, “Dr. Wilson was snooping around while I worked on the security. I don’t trust him.”

Miranda stares at her for a moment, searching, and then nods, closing the window on her tool. “Keep your copy. I hope I don’t need it, but thank you regardless.”

Regan nods, stepping back to let the brunette pass, climbing into the shuttle with her escort once directed.

It’s only once they’re well on their way back to Cerberus HQ that she looks at the bonus Miranda sent her, visor bugging out in response to her surprise.

_Damn, time to get some upgrades!_

* * *

Regan had lost track of how long she’d been with Lazarus, but things are mostly the same when she returns to HQ.

Erika and Haley have made it out of training and are System Watchers, now, and even though Regan normally _hates_ hugs, she allows herself to be grabbed by the girls once her escort has left.

For all that she’s always been alone… these two have somehow become her friends.

* * *

Time moves on.

Haley and Thomas start dating, which Regan accepts after several apologies and promises that he will _treat her friend right_. He is not, it turns out, a bad guy - he’s just not _her_ type.

Regan moves into a higher category then her friends, thanks to her skills and time with Lazarus - she’s the one Cerberus calls when they have an _important_ assignment, something that needs to be fixed _asap_.

Haley leaves for a few months about a year later to visit her mother, who’s health has suddenly taken a turn for the worse - Regan secretly sends her extra funds, something she never owns up to.

The news of colonists disappearing starts to trickle in, but it’s never anything substantial - just gossip and rumors, whole colonies _vanishing_.

Benning is fine, Haley and Erika keep themselves updated on that - and Regan checks in on New Canton once or twice, _just_ to be sure.

She never contacts her parents, directly, but she knows they’re alive.

Two years after she’d left Lazarus Station, Regan wakes up to an urgent message flashing on her omnitool, squinting as her visor flips on and the text comes up.

_Subject: Project Success_

_Kelly,_

_Thanks for the code; you were right. You’ve saved more than you can imagine._

_Lawson._

There’s a picture attached to the message - taken hastily, and clearly snapped when the person captured wasn’t looking.

Cropped, curly hair. A vaguely familiar face. Strange scars. N7 armor.

Regan scowls, visor zooming in closer to the face.

_Is that Commander Shepard?_


End file.
